


Whispers in Black and White

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Florida (X-Files), Post-Season 9 (X-Files)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-12
Updated: 2003-09-12
Packaged: 2019-04-27 06:05:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14419227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: He waits for her on the balcony, hoping that something in his lonely existence will change.





	Whispers in Black and White

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Whispers in Black & White

## Whispers in Black & White

### by Foxhunt2blue

Title: Whispers in Black & White  
Author: Foxhunt2blue  
Summary: He waits for her on the balcony, hoping that something in his lonely existence will change. Rating: PG  
Spoilers: Season 9 Post-Truth  
Keywords: Doggett/Reyes, Angst  
Disclaimer: CC & Fox own them all. I am just a poor unemployed fan only trying to pass the time. Feedback: Starving for it...sigh!  
E-mail: or  
Author's Note: See end of story. 

* * *

Somewhere between New Mexico and Kansas City they had lost each other. Both of them had known there was a possibility that they would become separated---so plans were made. 

They were to meet in Coral Gables, Florida if the they were ever separated. He had ask her why this specific town, but all she had done was smile that elusive smile he had learned to expect. It had surprised him even more when she had specified the exact spot. 

The Biltmore Hotel. 

Somehow he had managed to find his way to Coral Gables after two months of running. There was an aura to the town that spoke to him---not that he believed in such things. She did though and after he had seen the Biltmore he understood why she had chose this place. 

Massive and elegant it stood out as an incredible piece of architecture. A huge pool, the largest in the United States according to the desk clerk, put the nearby ocean to shame. The same clerk had saw fit to fill him in on the ghostly history of the place as well. 

That was Monica for you though. Even on the run her mind was filled with supernatural mumbo-jumbo. 

He had checked in and the wait began. 

So had the whispers. 

No one at the hotel really knew who he was. He had access to accounts that had been set up by the boys long before their deaths. Money wasn't a problem and he had changed his look so many times over the previous six months that he didn't even recognize himself. 

The staff knew him only as Duncan Andrews. 

He could hear them whispering as he walked by them. Each story more elaborate than the next. 

A drug dealer. 

The bastard son of a Kennedy. 

Who really knew? Even he didn't know. 

His hair was longer now, dyed a rich black, along with the neatly trimmed beard and mustache. Gone were the suits of his previous life replaced with faded jeans and loose tee-shirts that hid the gaunt, hardness of his body. 

As he began his long, lonely vigil he found himself hiding from the daylight. He would wake at noon, shower and dress, then sit for hours on the balcony overlooking the pool. He would read most days, but sometimes he would just watch the hotel guests, hoping that one day a dark-eyed beauty would join him. 

Weeks passed into months. 

Slowly everything around him began to fade. The once rich colors of a semitropical world turning into faint whispers of black and white. 

It was some six months later that he found himself wandering after dusk. Wandering along the same balcony that represented his entire world now. It was late autumn, but it didn't show except for the slight drop in temperature and the increase in rain. 

A storm was moving in, he thought, as he watched the clouds gather in the south. Despite those clouds a full moon still shone with a soft glow that lighted his way. It was the off season so few people were around. Summer was over, kids back in school, family vacations done. 

He settled into his favorite chair, the latest Anne Rice novel clutched in his hand, waiting to be read. A faint smile drifted across his mouth as he wondered what she would think if she realized her world was more real than she knew. In his time here he had began to realize that he had been a fool to fight so hard against his former partner Dana Scully. 

Now there was a name he hadn't thought of in awhile. Was she and Mulder sitting somewhere wondering about him? He doubted it. More than likely they were buried together in some unmarked grave in the desert. 

You can't think like that John, came the soft whisper that had become his only companion. 

So he tries to lose himself in the book and waits. He waits for her on the balcony, hoping that something in his lonely existence will change. That perhaps for once the truth hasn't cost him the one thing he needs. 

* * *

He wakes to the feel of cold wind on his face along with the first fine mist of winter rain. 

The only light now is from the ceiling lamp that sways in the wind at the end of the balcony. He realizes that it must be late for no one is visible on the pool deck below. Standing he stretches his aching body wishing for once that he were younger. As he turns to walk back to his room he notices there is a figure leaning against the balcony railing, just beyond his door. 

He can't get a good look. 

The wind has picked up and the drapes from his balcony door are dancing across his line of sight. Shoving the paperback in the waistband of his jeans he reaches to the small of his back. In a moment of despair he remembers he left his gun on the dresser. 

Well shit, he thinks, it's probably just another damn ghost anyway. He had seen more than his share, the hotel was crawling with them. 

"Hello?" He calls out his voice quavering as the figure turns. 

For a moment he can't believe his eyes. It couldn't be---could it? He moves closer, but the figure stands still as if in disbelief itself. 

Time seems to stand still as his legs contemplate folding beneath him. All the time that has passed here in his tiny corner of the universe, he had hoped, but his dreams seemed fruitless. 

"John?" 

As he collapses to the floor the figure rushes forward, tears glistening in those beautifully dark eyes. Eyes filled with an emotion he had never thought he would see again. 

Her hair is loose and it falls past her shoulders now. In all the time they have known each other he has never seen it this long before. Reaching out he runs trembling fingers through the tangled strands. 

"Monica?" His whisper is filled with both fear and hope. 

She begins to laugh, her arms wrapping around him. They kneel there as minutes pass, the rain now soaking through their clothes. 

As he draws back he has only one desire in this world. 

He cups her face in his hands and claims her mouth with a desperate kiss. There is a part of him that still fears she will dissipate on the cold wind, but instead a warmth flows through him. 

This is real, he thinks. 

So many months alone for him---for both of them---has brought the one real truth to the surface. 

"I thought I lost you...," he chokes out. 

"Never...," she whispers into his soaked hair. 

At that one word the colors return to his world. 

He has finally found what he needs to survive the fear of the coming apocalypse. Something he had let go of when he should of held on to it for dear life. 

Love. 

From love grows hope. A hope of a future that may or may not be. But it doesn't matter now what that future holds. For here in this moment all things are possible. 

No longer will he be lost amidst the whispers of black and white. His hope has returned and now he will be a warrior against the coming darkness. 

The End 

Author's Note: The Biltmore Hotel does exist and it is in Coral Gables, Florida. I have never been to either. All the information about the Biltmore I got from the following book: "Coast to Coast Ghosts" written by Leslie Rule.   
  


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